


Valentine's Day Ficlets 2019

by die_traumerei



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Kissing, Other, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Weaponized Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Two little ficlets to celebrate Valentine's Day, originally posted on my Twitter.St. Valentine: Isn't it wild when you learn that you and your husband used to date the same guy?Cupid Has Nothing on Anthony Janthony Crowley: Crowley's a giant nudge. Aziraphale has figured out how to weaponize his powers of angelic love.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. St. Valentine

“I really think that's _quite_ tacky, my dear,” Aziraphale said. Crowley had just burst into the shop singing _It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year_ at the top of his lungs. 

(It turned out that demons had lost their perfect pitch in the Fall, too.)

“Isn't. The air is full of _love_ and _warm feelings_ ,” Crowley sing-songed.

Aziraphale sighed. “And people spending too much money to try and measure up, or feeling heartbroken, or getting angry because their partner forgot. Honestly, Crowley, I know why you love the day.”

“I know! Angel, it's delicious!” He cackled and fell onto the loveseat, hugging himself and giving a snakey wiggle. “The air is full of misery. London's never been so much fun.”

“You are _awful_ ,” Aziraphale said, frowning.

“I don't see you getting into the spirit,” Crowley said, doing his version of sitting up properly. “Not a valentine to be seen.”

“Yes, well.” Aziraphale blushed. “It's a bit odd, when I knew him.”

“Oh?” Crowley asked with studied casualness.

“Yes. Er. Quite...quite well, actually.” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “All very long ago now, of course.”

“Yes, of course.” Crowley smiled slowly. “Were you close?”

Aziraphale's cheek had a bright spot of pink in them. “Oh, you know. Once. For a time, I mean.”

“ _Angel_.” Crowley grinned. “Did you fuck St. Valentine?”

“ _Crowley_!” Aziraphale gasped. “How can you ask that!”

“You did!” Crowley yelped. “You only ever go all blushy when we talk about your lovers!”

“I _hardly_ think...I mean...my dear boy.” Aziraphale was twisting his hands so much Crowley began to wonder if he was going to do himself an injury. “You speak as though I've had hundreds.”

“Nah, more like dozens by my count,” Crowley drawled. He took off his glasses, the better to gawk at Aziraphale. “So today is like, what? Your ex-boyfriend's birthday?”

“No! It's the day he was martyred and you know it!”

Crowley grinned. “I know it,” he said, and winked. “And him.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth and closed it. “You knew him?”

“'Course. Nice bloke. Very handsome,” Crowley reminisced.

“Oh. Well, yes, he was that...” Aziraphale lost himself in memory for a moment. “Terribly charming, too, the dear thing.”

“Was he? I didn't know him long enough.” Crowley smiled, slow and sweet, and waited until Aziraphale was sipping his tea. “He _did_ have that cunning little birthmark just – well, you know where.”

Aziraphale's response did  _not_ disappoint. He sprayed tea  _everywhere_ , it was the best.

“You fucked him _too_?”

“Of course, darling.” Crowley stretched out, breathing in the fumes of indignation pouring off of the angel. “Well, technically, he fucked _me_.”

“That is _beside the point_!” Aziraphale said through clenched teeth. 

“Lovely gentleman in bed,” Crowley said dreamily. “Always do appreciate it when his day comes around. Try to eat a banana, it reminds me of--”

Aziraphale was getting really quite good at aiming the throw pillows just right to perfectly bean Crowley and get him to shut up.


	2. Cupid Has Nothing on Anthony Janthony Crowley

_Poink._

_Poink. Poink._

_Poink._

“ _Really_ Crowley?” Aziraphale looked up from his book.

_Poink_ .

A suction-cup arrow with the fletching in the shape of heart stuck itself to the wall precisely two inches to the left of Aziraphale's head.

“Oh very cute,” he said dryly.

“I _am_ cute, aren't I?” Crowley posed for a moment with the toy bow and arrow which had gained excellent aim via some demonic interference. 

Aziraphale glared at him because, well, he  _was_ cute in a very short red dress and very long black boots with very high heels.

“You love me,” Crowley said gleefully, aiming his next arrow. The bookshop was covered in them by now, a little cloud of pink and white and red hearts dancing across various surfaces.

“Are you quite sure about that?” Aziraphale asked, as Crowley aimed and shot. Funniest thing, though, the way a stray breeze came through, twisted the arrow around, and landed the suction cup right in the middle of Crowley's forehead.

“Oi! You're going to mess up my foundation!” Crowley yanked the arrow off and went to anxiously check his face in a mirror.

“You look fine!” Aziraphale called after him, and went back to his book. For a few minutes.

“You _looove meeeee_ ,” Crowley sang out as he came back and draped himself across both Aziraphale and the loveseat.

Aziraphale glared at him, but also didn't say anything. Crowley was being silly, of course, because he excelled at the whole irritating goof thing, but also. Also, words had power, and Aziraphale would never give him the memory of being told he wasn't loved. Not even in jest.

Besides, it was pretty easy to get his revenge by going in the other direction.

“I do love you,” he agreed.

“ _Nooo_ , you're supposed to play along!” Crowley moaned.

“But I am,” Aziraphale said in his most innocent angel voice. “I love you, Crowley.”

“Argh,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale laid his hand on Crowley's slim hip. “You're so very beautiful, darling.”

“No,” Crowley said.

“Yes,” said Aziraphale warmly. “You're stunning. And more than that, you're kind and loving. You take such good care of me when I'm having a bad day.”

“Please stop,” Crowley begged.

“Why? It's all true.” Aziraphale rubbed the edge of Crowley's skirt with his thumb. “I love you like I didn't know I could love. And I think you should know that.”

“ _Noooo_ ,” Crowley moaned, aware of what was coming.

Demons couldn't sense love, not in a general way. Certainly not human love. But, they had learned, if it was angelic love, and it was carefully aimed and if Aziraphale  _pushed_ a little, Crowley could feel his love.

Aziraphale's wings unfolded, and Crowley moaned again, because it was starting. A wave of tenderness swept over him, just as white wings curled around them. His whole body was suffused in warmth.

“I love you,” Aziraphale said softly. “I don't want you to ever doubt that, Crowley. I gave you so many reasons to doubt over the years. But I loved, and I still love you.”

Crowley gasped softly. This always took him anew, the wave of love rolling off of the angel and splashing through his soul, warming him from tip to toe. It felt like being held by wings, like a warm bed on a cold night, like coming in from the rain and being given a cup of tea. It felt like everything good and comforting. Like his own darling angel, who was such a  _bastard_ , but who was so dear to him.

Crowley pressed himself into Aziraphale's arms, letting the adoration break over him and through him. He shook a little and was immediately soothed, Aziraphale stroking his hair and kissing his brow. “Gentle,” Aziraphale said. “I'll be more gentle with you, love.”

Crowley sighed, and gasped, and floated in the feeling until it receded and he could do anything other than revel in angelic love again.

“ _Zira_ ,” he moaned, and of course Aziraphale kept him close, rubbing his back and rocking him a little. 

“I have you,” he whispered. “I'm right here. Even when you can't feel it, that's how much I love you, Crowley.”

How did anyone survive, carrying that around in their heart? It was insane. Being in love was utterly insane, and Crowley ought to know.

He calmed slowly, but that was all right; Aziraphale was there to be tender with him and comfort him as he came back to himself, still snuggled in the angel's lap, bright wings around them both.

“That was really mean,” Crowley said, his face buried in Aziraphale's neck. He smelled so much like home and safe and the best things in the world.

“I do apologize,” Aziraphale said.

“But you don't mean it,” Crowley guessed.

“Not a bit,” Aziraphale assured him. “Oh, dear boy. I really do love you. All of that was real.”

“Trust me, I _know_ ,” Crowley said, a little shaky still. He rested in soft, strong arms, until the arrow he'd put onto the wall beside Aziraphale lost its suction and fell onto his head in a level of symbolism he _refused_ to countenance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [dietraumerei.tumblr.come](dietraumerei.tumblr.com)


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